But The Greatest of These is Love
by Churro-Dragon
Summary: Two years into America's Revolution, Prussia visits Valley Forge to help train the unshod, ragtag Continental troops into a disciplined and formidable army. The path to victory is no smooth road though, and somehow along the way Alfred gets a crush, Gilbert gets a headache, and Francis gets to act as both mediator and bemused bystander as everything unfolds. One-Sided PruAme.
1. An Interesting Visit

_Chapter Summary: France asks questions, makes observations, and gets to see some familiar faces._

* * *

"Suffering, pain, misfortune–he'll have to get used to it all," said Prussia. "Sure, he's freakishly strong, and ridiculously resilient, nobody's doubting that about him. But America needs to learn use his head once in a while if he wants any hope of getting the best of England."

"Those are some noble values." said France, standing off to the side of the training field next to Prussia, "Although, if half of what I've heard about him is true, that boy and his company have already endured more hardship this winter than many men alive will ever face."

"Well, the war isn't over yet. The worst might be yet to come." said Prussia, carefully observing the American troops at their exercises. "But hey, that's why we're both here, aren't we? To help set him on the right path."

"That's one way of looking at it."

By posing under the admittedly flimsy cover of being a trade negotiator from his Caribbean colonies, France had managed to gain permission from his bosses to visit the new, volatile United States. He hadn't personally seen the state of the army before the Baron's arrival, but he had heard word of it, from his own correspondence as well as from the American ambassadors in France who for the past two years had vied for aid against Britain. Now that he was here, it was the little details that made such a big difference indeed–such as how the men marched and stood at attention–that reflected the newer, more disciplined mindset overtaking the army that only a few months ago had been in danger of succumbing to starvation and disease.

"He certainly has a way with soldiers." said France, watching as the Baron, dressed in full military gear, marched back and forth in front of the army, commanding in a garbled mixture of German, French, and multilingual profanities while his interpreters relayed their translations. America stood somewhat further away the middle of the crowd, partially hidden from view by a couple of taller soldiers flanking him. "Although one just has to ask, if he's as brilliant a tactician as you say, why'd he get discharged from your army?"

"Oh, there's plenty of gossip back home." said Prussia. "I was actually getting kind of sick of everyone jabbering about it, which is kind of why I offered to tag along. True, he's always been a bit vague about his personal details; I'm not even sure he's actually a Baron! But I do know one thing," he said. "He's one of the best there is. It's a damn shame if my own people have to lose him just because the higher-ups don't take too nicely to self-described sodomites. It's the least i can do to help him out a bit at his new job."

After the drill was over, soldiers all around took their leave, some returning to their tents to return their equipment, others going to relieve themselves at the newly–installed latrines that the Baron had ordered built on the edge of the encampment.

"At least they're not shitting everywhere and leaving dead animals to rot in the middle of the roads." said Prussia, watching the group disperse.

"Sounds like that's your proudest accomplishment to date."

"You bet it is," Prussia snickered. "Why are you laughing? I mean it, you know! Even simple things like taking a crap can affect the entire system. You should have come here when we first arrived. Completely disgusting! But we sorted that out, along with everything else."

"Hey, Prussia!" a familiar voice shouted, and they turned to see America running up to them, with his typical wide grin. "How'd I do today?"

"Tolerable, I suppose." said Prussia. "You all seem to actually be taking advice nowadays, which is a relief."

"So… does that mean you think we're improving?" he asked, a hopeful look on his face.

"Yes, indeed." said France, cutting in. "At least, you seemed to be doing better since the last time I got to see you fight, and that was back when I was fighting against you."

America turned in surprise, as if noticing him standing there for the first time. "Oh! Haha, hi there France!" he said. "And oh yeah, no hard feelings about that, right? I mean, I was just helping Arth–I mean, England, at the time, but that's all over now. Super great to see you! You gonna go see Washington and Lafayette later?"

"That's why I'm here," said France. "Although I thought I'd slip in and get a good look at you first. You've sure grown since the last time I saw you!" America was indeed a lot taller and leaner than the tiny kid who'd brutally tackled France several times during the Seven Years' War, but he still wore the same mischievous expression that he'd always had.

"You really think so?" said America Haha… thanks, I guess." He shifted self-consciously and lacing his fingers together–still not quite used to his new stature, France deduced. Prussia cleared his throat, and America immediately straightened.

"As I was saying," said Prussia, putting himself between them. "Before we were so rudely interrupted–" he shot a warning look back at France. "Is that yes, you are doing much better than before. You've even impressed the Baron with your progress. Now that he's implemented his methods across the entire army, this extends to them as well ."

"Well, that's good right?" America grinned again, blue eyes sparkling with the early-morning energy. "I got to see some of the newest translations from that instruction book he's putting together! I mean, it's not done yet, but I talked to Hamilton and he let me see some of the drafts!"

"Now don't get too excited," said Prussia. "You've still got a long way to go. True, your formations have been clean, and you've tripled in efficiency and organization. But I've noticed that you break rhythm sometimes to turn around or look back. Remember, you've got to remember to actually concentrate on the task at hand."

America looked at him blankly for a second, then snapped out of it and nodded vigorously.

"…Yes sir."

"See?" Prussia poked America in the forehead. "That's what I mean. You've gotta be on top of it. There's a million things to worry about on the battlefield, and if you can't focus you can't function. Understand?"

"Yes sir!" he replied, quicker this time. "I'll do better, I won't disappoint you!"

"That's the spirit," said Prussia, smiling for the first time that day. "Although you gotta remember it's not about me. You've got to do this for yourself and your men."

"That too!" said America. "I mean–of course! That's what I meant to say. When I said that, that is."

He stood there for another awkward couple of seconds. France was considering interrupting again when Prussia spoke up.

"Well, you'd better get going before the whole army finishes up lunch without you."

"Alright then, I'll see you later today!" he waved goodbye to France as he ran off to catch up with the rest of the hungry troops. Once he was out of sight, Prussia seemed to relax a bit more.

"Not quite the scrappy farmhand he used to be! At the rate he's growing, he'll soon pass England in stature. No wonder the old fart's so upset. Imagine having a little brother who's taller than you." he laughed at the ridiculousness of the idea, then continued. "You know, I might be getting pretty fond of that rascal despite myself."

"Hm," said France, remembering Alfred's beaming face and those awkward half-second pauses earlier. "And I'm quite positive he'd say the same about you." It was a simple enough reply. France harbored a faint hope that Prussia would pick up on the implied message encoded within his intonations, but he had no such luck.

"Anyway, you'd be better off going to see the the Marquis," Prussia said, starting to head off. "He's been excited ever since he learned you were coming over. I'm gonna grab something to eat and maybe have a chat with the aides. Need anything?"

"I'll be fine."

When Lafayette saw France approaching, he immediately ran over and wrapped him in a firm embrace. "Francis! It's been too long since we've seen each other, _mon ami_!" he said. "Any word from the court? How has my nation been all this time?"

"Fatigued," said France truthfully. "It's been a long journey and Pruss–I mean, Gilbert–has been dragging me all over this encampment since I've arrived. But you! You've been busy. I received your letters. Where's this Washington fellow you keep raving about?"

The young noble brightened at the mention of Washington. "I just know he'll be glad to see you! He probably won't look very happy, but that's just how he is, you'd understand if you've spent as much time with him as I have. I mean, he's been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders since this thing started, just like Atlas."

"Where can I see him?"

"He's busy now," said Lafayette, pointing over to a large house at the edge of their vision. "He's been holed up in the Potts house all day talking with Hamilton and the others, but you can probably see him tomorrow, or even tonight if they finish early, although I doubt they will. I can't wait for you to meet him!"

In the meantime, Lafayette decided introduced his "good friend and ally of the people" to some of his aides and fellow American soldiers. After talking for a few minutes, France casually brought up the subject of Alfred F. Jones and was greeted by a chorus of responses.

"Alfred! Such a charming boy! So energetic, you'd never guess he's more than a hundred years old!"

"Honestly? He reminds me of my brother, when we were younger."

"I've been missing my son back at home since I joined, and it's weird, but I swear he looks just like him!"

"The way he talks and laughs–it's so strange, as he's younger than me, but it's just like the way my Uncle used to tell jokes when I was a kid."

"He seems like he's quite popular with his people." Said France once they'd left the soldiers to continue fawning and arguing over who was really Alfred's best friend in the army.

"Of course he is! He's young, energetic, and their nation after all. "

"Does he get along well with Gilbert?"

"Get along with Gilbert?" the Marquis laughed. "Oh, he's always running off and looking for an excuse to accompany him and see what he's up to, even outside of training. Not that Washington or the others mind too much; he's here to help teach him good habits after all. I don't think I've seen Alfred in such high spirits since that Prussian Baron and his nation came to camp."

"Is that so?" France muttered to himself.

"Hm? What did you say?" said the Marquis.

"Nothing," said France. "I just get the feeling this is going to be an interesting visit…."

* * *

Thank you for reading! I've been planning out this fic for a while now and I'm glad to finally get a first chapter up.

 **Historical notes:**

(there's a lot on Von Steuben bc wow he was actually super interesting?)

-The Winter at Valley Forge was one of the lowest points in the Revolutionary War, where more than 2,000 American soldiers died of sickness, starvation, or hypothermia due to lack of resources. There will be more on this later...

-One of the first changes Von Steuben made at Valley forge was to make basic hygiene mandatory–he had latrines built on the side of the camp that sloped downwards, and demanded that kitchens be as far away from aforementioned latrines as possible.

-One of the reasons why Von Steuben ended up serving in the United States in the first place was because of allegations of homosexuality back in Prussia, which most likely had led to his being dismissed from the army despite his very impressive military record there. The allegations (which he never denied) followed him back to the states, but overall Washington decided that the need for his skills outweighed any accusations of "sodomy" that he might have. Also worth noting that the word "homosexual" didn't even exist yet at this point, which is why Prussia uses "sodomite." Bosses might be fine with nations in same-sex relationships, but not for humans...

-Von Steuben's military manual (known as "the Blue Book") that served to standardize training procedures throughout the Continental army, which had been horribly inconsistent before. He wrote them in French, and Alexander Hamilton and Nathaniel Greene would translate them into English. Alfred probably gets first dibs on the fresh copies! Also, the principles of the Blue Book are still in use in the US military today.

-The Marquis de Lafayette and George Washington were very good friends throughout the war, despite their wide age range and very different personalities–the Marquis was known for being very warm and sociable, while George Washington was more aloof and serious...

-The Potts house–where Washington had his headquarters during his time in Valley Forge.

If you feel like adding any info as well, please comment!


	2. Spectacular

Chapter Summary: France has a couple of revealing conversations.

—

When it came to the more intimate relationships of nations, France always managed to, if not completely insinuate himself into them, at least get a general sense of what was going on, both regarding political alliances , as well as regarding attractions on a more personal level. If Prussia was going to be stubbornly oblivious as he always was, it was only a matter of talking to America himself.

He found him sitting at his small campfire away from the other soldiers.

"Francis!" he smiled broadly, getting up and hugging him–almost as enthusiastically as Lafayette, Francis noted. "It's so great to see you again! How's Ben doing?"

"Quite well for himself! He has a way with the ladies of the court, that's for sure. You can thank him for managing to get the Baron on this side of the Atlantic. Prussia and the Baron, that Polish revolutionary, me of course–even Spain wants a piece of the action. Arthur's never been that popular on the mainland, but to see so many people in Europe turn against him on a dime? 'Incroyable' seems like a fitting word." Francis sat down in front of the fire. "I'm sorry for taking so long to respond to all of you." he said. "You must know I've been busy as well. Although I've heard a lot about what happened over the winter."

Alfred stiffened at the mention of winter. "It's not something I want to remember much. I mean, It happened. but it's over now." he sat back down next to Francis. "I'm not scared of battle or fighting anything like that, but last winter… it was something else entirely." He shivered at the memory, despite being right next to the fire. France handed Alfred back his coat, which he had put aside earlier, and Alfred wrapped it around his shoulders. "Of course, right after that, then that's when–"

"When he showed up, right?"

"Yeah." Alfred stared into the fire pit, the flames reflecting in his eyes.

"He certainly is a spectacular one, isn't he."

"I know, right?" Alfred turned excitedly towards Francis, talking very quickly. "He just knows so much about, well, everything! I thought I'd learned a lot of stuff about history and battle from England before, but Prussia's told me lots of stories I've never heard before! Even about the French and Indian–I mean, the Seven Year's war, what was going on in Europe, from his perspective at the time. He's done sooo much in his life, I mean he was raised in an army so it makes sense that he'd know a lot about war and stuff. I've already learned so much from him, and it's only been a short time! Also, did you know that he knows a whole lot about birds too? I got to point out some of the native species for him here, and he said that–"

"Whoa, there, slow down," said Francis. "I was referring to the Baron, not Gilbert."

The wide smile that had been gracing Alfred's face since he'd started talking vanished, and his eyes widened with realization. "Oh." He leaned down and buried his face in his hands. "Ohhh."

"Now, now," Francis tried to sound consoling. "It's an easy mistake. You don't have to feel embarrassed."

"Heh, that's right. A mistake." Alfred laughed. "Of course you meant the Baron! He is pretty spectacular. You know, when we all first saw him he arrived in a carriage? Like, an actual carriage, decorated all fancy and stuff. It was so bizarre to see after all the time we'd spent rolling in the muck, it was like something out of some fevered dream–and believe me, we'd all had plenty of those by then.

"You've definitely been doing a lot better for yourself now."

"Yeah! The Baron's a bit scary sometimes, and so's Gil, but like, in a cool way. Like, he's always yelling and shouting stuff, and sometimes we do get into actual fights but he doesn't–you know–look down on me. At least I don't feel like he does. Not the way Arthur does, at least." Alfred said

"If you keep growing any taller, I don't think anyone will be able to look down on you for long," said Francis, reaching over and ruffling Alfred's hair.

"Give me a break!" Alfred laughed and swatted his hand away. "Gosh, Francis, I'm too old for that!"

"Sorry. It's just been too long and I couldn't help it." Francis stood up to go. "It's been nice to see you again," he said. "You'd better get some sleep. You've got a long day tomorrow, don't you?"

"True. Probably a good idea…" Alfred stood up, yawning and stretching his arms towards the sky. "Want me to walk you over to where you're staying?"

"It's alright. Lafayette already showed me where it is."

"Okay." said Alfred. "G'Night, Francis."

"Bonsoir."

He walked away at a leisurely pace, leaving Alfred to whistle merrily into the night.

—

"Hey Prussia," France called out later the next morning. "Prusse. We need to talk."

"Can it wait?"

"It probably can, but it shouldn't."

"You're always one for the cryptic answers, aren't you?" Prussia glanced up from the water basin over which he had been washing his face. "So what's up? Have you and your wishy-washy monarchs made up their minds yet about whether or not to help the kid with his rebellion?"

"As an autonomous being representing the people" said France. "I've made up my own mind on the matter, and I am quite sure that the king will follow along soon, you'll see. But I'm not here to talk politics with you."

"Is that so? You'd better talk quickly then. I've got a packed schedule today."

"It's about America."

"Yeah, what about him? You want to know how he's doing? He's been making some amazing progress, sure, but he still needs to learn the meaning of finesse. Every day I have to remind him, brute strength means nothing if he can't understand that–"

"Just listen." France said. "Now, you know as much as I do that Alfred's a unique boy in many areas, but in others I'm inclined to think that he really is quite typical. Let's not forget how young he is too, so that contributes a lot to it."

"Contributes to what?" Prussia looked at France suspiciously. "I'm not sure what you're getting at, but the way you're talking is already freaking me out. Did something happen that I'm not aware of? If so, just tell it to me straight, I hate it when people leave me out of the loop."

"Did something happen?" France laughed nervously. "Oh, I am quite certain there has. I even tried to lead you to the conclusion myself, although I should have guessed that of course you'd be too hard-headed to pick up on it. Part of what makes you so predictable."

"Damn it, France," Prussia growled and turned around, drenching his towel in the cold water basin. "I don't have the luxury of time to trade insults with you today, no mater how tempted I am to get started. Just spit it out, whatever it is, and just stop wasting my time. What is it about the kid that's just so damn important to say?"

"Simply put?" said France. "I think he's in love with you."

Prussia didn't respond, standing as if frozen at the basin there, leaned over with his hands plunged into the water. After a few moments he stood up, wrung his towel, and wiped his face. sending a storm of droplets in every direction.

"Did you hear what–"

"I heard you already." he muttered. "Very. clearly."

"Well then," said France. "Aren't you going to respond?"

"And how the hell am I supposed to respond?" Prussia snapped. "I mean–how ? How does this even happen?"

"These things happen all the time." said France. "So, he's developed a crush. He's young and impressionable, and you're a fascinating and handsome newcomer. It was bound to happen, and it probably won't bother you for too long, it's not the end of the world!"

"I don't care!" said Prussia. "I can't believe this. I thought I came all the way across the Atlantic to avoid drama at home, not get caught up in the middle of it here!" He grabbed his coat and pushed past another miniature crowd of soldiers crossing the lane.

"Besides, I know you. You're always looking for ways to cook up drama. You're probably just imagining things."

"Not this time I'm not. Normally I'd be surprised if someone else managed to be oblivious so long, but with you–well, that's a different story entirely." France leaned against a nearby tree with a pose of self-assurance. "It's the way he looks at you, when you enter and when you leave, and how he talks about you when you're gone. There is definitely something in that gaze that reaches beyond just childish admiration, if i'm not mistaken.."

"Well you might be mistaken. It's nothing special, not like the way you're making it sound. It's just that he needs to learn how to concentrate and not end up daydreaming in the middle of activities."

"Daydreaming, huh? And what–or whom–do you suppose he dreams of, hm?"

"Oh, you know what I mean!" Prussia grabbed his hat and walked further ahead. "Anyway, I don't have time for this. Unlike you, I actually have a legitimate reason for staying on this sorry continent, so if you'll excuse me I have an appointment with Von Steuben–"

France ran ahead of him and blocked his path. "I'm not wrong," he said firmly. "And you can't just ignore–"

"I said I don't have time for this. Now get out of my way," Prussia pushed past him and strode away towards the Baron's house.

Notes:

-Ben Franklin was an Ambassador to France, where he became something of a celebrity there and apparently was reliable with the ladies...although there are conflicting accounts (although at this time (roughly early 1778–im kind of vague on dates here) it might also be Thomas Jefferson?

-France famously allied with the US in the Revolutionary War, but Spain also sent some aid against Britain, the Netherlands and other nations contributed economically by continuing to trade with the young United States. Also not mentioned here, but Morocco was the first country to officially recognize the US as a sovereign nation.

-The "Polish revolutionary" mentioned is Tadeuz Kosciucuzko, who not only helped out the US but also tried to spread revolutionary ideals to Poland. Didn't work out so well for him there, but still he was pretty badass.


	3. Not Helpful

That night, Francis found Alfred back at the fire pit where they had conversed the night before.

"Shouldn't you be sitting with your friends?" he asked. "It's a bit lonely here, and I'm sure your fellow soldiers would appreciate the company. They speak very highly of you, after all."

Alfred looked back at the other clumps of soldiers chatting together in the distance.

"Uh, I guess I'll talk to them later," he said. "I just wanted to stay here for now. You see, I told Prussia I'd show him some of my bird watching sketches that I'd done on breaks, but I didn't see him at dinner. He usually passes by at three o' clock, but he wasn't there earlier today. And funny enough, the other men said they didn't see him either. He's usually so punctual, so it's pretty strange!"

"A lot of things are strange nowadays." said France. "Strange and new. But, that doesn't make them necessarily bad. You should know, of all people."

"Huh?"

France seated himself next to him.

"America," he said, slowly and deliberately. "We've known each other for quite a long time. You may have been England's colony originally, of course, but that doesn't mean we're not like brothers in a similar way."

Alfred looked up at Francis with a guarded expression. "What're you trying to get at?"

"I think there's something we should talk about as family, rather than just nations. Well, honorary family, at least. Let's talk about our _spectacular_ newcomer, shall we? I believe we talked about him at length last night."

Alfred turned red and suddenly became very interested in the dry pine needles littering the ground.

"Was it…Was I really that _obvious_?"

France shrugged. "To me, at least. But I'm slightly more sensitive to these sorts of things than the average person."

"Well, it's dumb. Go ahead and laugh all you like." He pouted and kicked some of the needles into the bonfire, where they were consumed quickly.?

"I'm not here to mock you," said Francis. "It's a natural part of growing up. Love is a beautiful thing that you shouldn't be ashamed of. Gilbert Beilschmidt, huh? Not _quite_ my type, but I suppose he can be quite charming, in a loud and obnoxious way. And he does certainly cut a _fine_ figure in that uniform!"

Alfred groaned and pulled his coat down over his head. "You are _not_ helpful!"

"Don't be unfair," said Francis. "I'm doing my best to be encouraging! To be honest I'm just relieved that despite living in a backwater for your whole life you've managed to develop at least a modicum of good taste."

"What's there even to encourage?" said Alfred, still underneath the coat. "Like I said. It's just a dumb thing. It's not like anything's gonna _happen_."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," said Francis. "But the question is of course, what do you _want_ to happen?"

There was a moment of hesitation from the coat.

"You should probably come out from under there. I can't believe it makes for easy breathing."

Slowly, Alfred from under the coat, looking very flushed and sweaty indeed, although whether it was from the thick wool or from embarrassment or both, Francis couldn't tell.

"Ok, FINE!" shouted Alfred. "Awesome! Wow! Good for you for figuring it out, I like him, okay, so can you leave me alone now?"

"I can hear you clearly," said Francis as calmly as he could, which only seemed to irritate America even more. "There is no need to raise your voice." Crush or not, France could see Prussia's influence lingering in the boy's speech and movements–America did his best to imitate Prussia's loud and commanding tone and confident swagger, but there was still an uncertainty to his steps and a hesitancy in his words that showed that he hadn't quite grown into the grand manner he so desperately wanted to put on.

"Maybe I should just call over Mr. Hamilton right now and tell him to write up an twenty-page official statement for the press, since I know you're just _dying_ to tell everybody this hilarious discovery, aren't you!"

"Why is everybody trying to read my mind before I even say anything these days?" said Francis. "Don't act so devastated. I just want to help you. Now will you please come out from under that?"

Alfred sat back up, looking a slight bit less distressed than a couple of seconds ago.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you and stuff," he said while dusting himself off. "I kind of freaked out."

"It's no problem." Francis helped Alfred to his feet. "I'm curious, though–how long has this little infatuation been going on?"

"I don't know. A month or so, I guess? It's actually a kind of relief now, to be able to actually talk about it. It's not like I can really chat about these things with my folks."

"And why not?" said Francis. "You never know, they might have some good words of advice to offer. They might be younger than you, technically, but they all have their own wells of experience to draw from. I think you'd be surprised. Humans don't always react the way you expect them too, after all. Same goes for nations. We might be different than everyone else, but in a lot of ways we're exactly the same."

Alfred put on his coat properly for once. "It's just so confusing, being a nation and a human… I mean there's the war, and all the politics going on in Congress, and even though things are getting better now, who knows if it'll last? No one even knows what we're gonna do after we win, everyone keeps arguing and sometimes they even fight with each other. And now _this_ new thing."

"This really is your first crush then?" said Francis. "Wow. After all this time? You're quite the late bloomer."

"Well if you say that I guess it's gotta be true, right?" said Alfred. "Back at home–I mean, like everyone I knew in the cities all over–they always had, you know, lady friends, or boy friends, and they'd go out and whistle the tunes that everybody knows, and be merry out in the night. I remember Ben–Dr. Franklin, I mean–would always try to pair me off with one of his girl friends he'd just met. He was just trying to be nice, I know he was, but it was always _really_ weird! Andhe'd just say things like 'you'll understand when you're older, son.'"

Alfred took off his coat and wrapped it around his shoulders. "This thing with Gil… I guess that's what he meant? It sure _feels_ different, but that doesn't mean I understand it any better. " Alfred scraped the tip of his shoe across the dirt. "Gil's already so much _better_ than me at everything," he said. "He's been a soldier all his life, and he's so tough and confident in himself. And when I'm around him–ever since he came here, I mean–I feel like I can be all that too, and more. And maybe, just maybe, if I ever get that far, he might think–I might…" his voice faltered and he stared blankly off into the distance before turning around in frustration. "I don't know! I'm not good at _describing_ stuff!" He gestured aimlessly front of him, as if hoping to conjure up an answer out of the air with his hands.

"Have you tried talking to him?" asked Francis. "Not just during training I mean, but when you're both at rest or whatever?"

"Yeah, we talk," said Alfred "Well, at least he does. But not about–like, _this_ kind of stuff. And he's always super busy, you know? I don't want to–" he stopped fidgeting suddenly and looked straight at Francis.

"Don't want to what?"

"Wait," said Alfred. "You…you haven't like, _told_ him anything, have you?"

"Er… I _might_ have expressed my suspicions earlier today.…"

Alfred gave a look of horror, then flopped backwards onto the grass with the coat bunched into his face again.

"This is the worst day of my _life!"_

"Considering everything you've been through in the past couple of years," said France, "I highly doubt the sincerity of your statement."

Despite his personal knowledge of the serious situation surrounding all of them, Francis couldn't help but laugh at how absurd everything was. After all, Alfred might be a Nation, but he was also just as human and emotionally fraught as any other pubescent boy.

"Oh, you laugh, but I mean it alright," said Alfred grouchily underneath the coat. "Valley Forge was bad enough before, but now _this_? Just let me _die_ already!"

"That confirms it," Francis got up and gently nudged Alfred with his foot. "You're in _love_. Now it's time to stop rolling on the ground and deal with it like a man."

Alfred responded with a drawn out guttural noise that seemed an awful lot like what Francis imagined a dying buffalo must sound like, although seeing as Francis hadn't actually ever encountered a buffalo first hand, it was hard to tell for sure.

As Alfred didn't show any intentions of getting off the ground anytime soon, Francis crouched down next to him in silence. Occasionally he heard something like faint whimpering coming from under the coat.

"I'm assuming Arthur didn't really talk about these things with you," he said. He questioned the wisdom of bringing up Arthur, wondering if it would make Alfred even more peevish than he already was, but it seemed like a change in subject was sorely needed.

"I know he's had his own share of relationships," said the coat-muffled voice on the ground. "He's old, so it makes sense. Its not like he ever really talked about them up in front of me, though. In fact, it's not like we really talked at all, with salutary neglect being a thing. After that we couldn't talk without arguing, and now, well, here we are. Duking it out." Alfred tossed the coat aside and scrambled back up to his feet. "Can't wait to finally crush his sorry face in person! All this time, and he _still_ thinks I'll come crawling back to him! Hah! Too late for that."

Francis watched him punch the air, pummeling imaginary hordes of redcoats with his bare hands. "You know," said Francis, "You can't hate him forever."

"Well, look who's talking!" said Alfred, looking back down at Francis. "It's not like he totally wasted a ton of _my_ resources fighting you for almost a decade or anything. Oh wait! He did!"

Francis laughed. "Arthur Kirkland and I have a very unique, personal kind of hate that stretches back for centuries. As for you, after you win the war, and become your own country, you're going to need to wise up and start learning how to actually interact with the rest of the world, starting with him. After all, this war is about independence, not revenge, remember? "

"A lot _you_ care about independence," said Alfred. "Everything's easy for you to say, because you're already a powerful country, with money and armies and a king and a bunch of colonies of your own. It's not like your folks are backing me up out of the pure goodness of your hearts or anything, right? I know you want to clobber him just as much as I do."

"Of course I do," said Francis. "But I'd beg to differ if you think it's _easy_ to convince my government to send aid to you?" Francis managed to bite back an extra scathing reply that had jumped into his head– _you'd probably be stuck bleeding out in the mud if it wasn't for me and Gilbert–_ and put his hand on Alfred's shoulder, trying his best to come across as paternal as possible without being condescending.

"Look, just because I have my own motivations doesn't mean I don't care about you," he said. "And I'm here to help. Both militarily and when it comes to more…delicate matters."

Alfred brushed off Francis' hand and whirled around to face him. "I don't need any advice on _that_." he said, glowering up at him. "Just forget about it and leave me alone." He lingered there for another moment, then turned around and walked briskly away past the cabins, the other men, and beyond range of the firelight. Francis watched him leave, the sound of pine needles and gravel crunching under his feet as he walked out of sight.

Poor France. He's just trying to be reasonable, and people just keep walking out on him, don't they?  
I've never had to experience a crush, so Alfred's angstings were mostly taken from either observations, my imagination, and at the very least the frustration of not being able to verbalize feelings.

Not much historical notes for this one, since it was mostly full of emotionally fraught teen angst, but France does have a point.

-After the Revolutionary War, and with the notable exception of the War of 1812, the US and Great Britain have been on mostly cordial terms, and in more modern times the US has one of of the closest diplomatic, cultural, and economic relationships with the UK ever, which is shown by the cultural and language influences as well. Basically, Alfred takes more after his surrogate pops than he'd like to admit.

-Alfred might have been hesitant to talk to his Founding Dads about his feelings, but he probably might have gotten some good advice on how to deal with things. At the very least, we know that in Valley Forge, George Washington was actually pretty lenient when it came to homosexual relationships in his army, choosing to quietly discharge those convicted rather than having them castrated or executed, as was wont. He specifically allowed Alexander Hamilton to share a cabin with his presumed lover John Laurens, and of course recruited Major General Von Steuben who was specifically there in the States because of his scandals back in Europe. More on the subject later...

Thank you for reading!


	4. Take a Break

Alfred wasn't the only irritated one. After walking out on France, Prussia sat morosely through his meeting with the Baron, trying his best to focus and forget the previous conversation as much as possible. The Baron passed out a few more handwritten drafts that he wanted to include in his instructional book.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd review these for me before I hand them off to Hamilton and Laurens for translation," he said. "Nothing too fancy, just a cursory review would do, with your experience. It's quite a different environment here in America than it is back in Europe, so I've just been trying to modify my knowledge to what fits these people."

He pushed a folder of manuscripts across the desk.

"Thanks," said Prussia, trying to sound assured and failing.

"You seem distracted, Gilbert." The Baron folded his hands and leaned forward. " Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I'm fine, sir. I'm trying hard _not_ to be distracted, anyway, now that we're reaching a crucial point here with the troops. I've gotta get back to Europe and catch up on all the happenings once I help this kid out with his own little war." He rubbed his temples. "I don't remember the last time I traveled this far away from my own house! It makes me nervous, not knowing what's going on back at home. Russia's been acting all strangely lately, and Poland won't shut up about the partition agreements, but I say he just has to _deal_ with it you know? He already got his turn in the spotlight, we can't all be world powers at the same time. And then there's all the crap happening in Bavaria. It doesn't feel right. Like, who knows if Austria isn't going to try and do something stupid while I'm gone?"

"You just never stop, do you?" the Baron gave a hearty laugh.

"Well, it's not easy being the awesomest and most important nation in all of Europe," said Gilbert.

"I really appreciate you accompanying me, despite all your responsibilities," said the Baron. "This isn't quite a battlefield, not yet, but it's good to have you by my side again. Almost like in good old '63! You never did get around to visiting me while I was in France, so it's like this Revolution was a touch of good fortune for us, don't you think?"

"It is good to know you're back in the game," said Gilbert. "Although after all you've done for me–I mean, for the army, of course, I'm still baffled as to why they had to dismiss you!"

"Oh, _that_ ," said the Baron, rolling his eyes. "Gil, you're a smart boy! Don't act like you don't know."

"I don't know the details, only the rumors about the scandal," said Gil carefully. "And since I didn't get to talk to you before you left for France and after that–well, then we both got busy with other things."

"Rumors come and go," said the Baron. "Words, that's all they are. But they are not necessarily untrue. I may have lost my position, but the things one does for love!" He laughed slightly and gave a deep sigh. "But enough about me." said the Baron. "I suppose I do go on! You must forgive me, there are precious few people around here I can converse with in German besides my own aides. But since I was already speaking of love–"

"Oh _no_ ," said Gil, feeling a knot of repulsion in his stomach. "Not you too! We are _not_ talking about this–"

"–I thought I'd mention that bright young man who fancies you."

Gil groaned and quickly turned for the door before the Baron stopped him.

"Don't be so prudish," he said. "What's the matter with you?"

"Herr Baron sir! This has literally nothing to do with anything! Besides, how did you even find out about that? Was it France, that idiot can never keep his mouth shut!"

"France? I haven't even gotten the chance to speak with him since he arrived," said the Baron. "I came to my own conclusions! It doesn't take a genius to observe."

"Yeah, well if I've been blind to it maybe it's because I've been completely focused on doing my job, not playing around!"

"Who says you can't do both?" said the Baron. "You've served faithfully since we've arrived, so it's not as if a break is completely undeserved. Maybe it might even help take your mind off all the conflict back at home you were talking about earlier, you know? Nothing like a handsome youth to take your mind off your troubles," The Baron laughed to himself. "Like that Captain Benjamin Walker! Hardly an angel in the heavens who can compare to–but I digress. This is hardly an ideal time and place, but you should take your rest and enjoy what you have while you're here. I can take care of my own affairs for a bit."

Gil sighed and didn't so much sit down in his chair as fall back limply into it. "Sir… I understand what you're trying to do here for me, and maybe it works for you, but well, I'm not you! It's not that I don't like Alfred, I do! He's smart and resourceful and definitely is the most inspired out of everyone here. But that doesn't mean I want to get _involved_ with him!"

"Come on, now," said the Baron, sitting down next to Gil and giving him an affectionate shoulder-slap. "Isn't he a comely lad? And if he likes you, then I say go for it while you're still here. It'll be a good experience for both of you. After all, the greatest of all virtues is love, isn't it? That's even a biblical thing, right? I forget…"

"It is," said Gilbert coldly. "But you're taking it _completely_ out of context."

"If it's a question of propriety that's bothering you, it's not like he's that much younger than you in terms of human years," said the Baron. "Besides, I thought that age doesn't matter much, with your kind at least. Just another one of those strange differences between us, right?

"Oh my god," said Gil. " I don't want to talk about– _look_ , sir, you're great and I respect you a lot, and appreciate that you want to share your, uh, advice, but when I say that I am not interested, it means precisely that _I am not interested!_ Now as it seems like we're done talking about strategy and training, I will take my leave." Gilbert hastily gathered up the papers on the Baron's desk and scuttled across to the door. He was about to close it when he stopped and poked his head back into the room.

"And for the dear love of _all_ that is holy," he said, "whatever you do, _don't_ go hitting on him yourself!"

The Baron laughed again. "Of course not! He's all yours–"

"That's very nice okaynow _goodbye!_ "

Gil slammed the door and walked stiffly all the way across the camp without stopping to even wave back at the soldiers who recognized and greeted him along the way. When he reached his hut he put the papers carefully down on the side, then lay down on his cot, sighing heavily. It was early in the day but he already felt tired and extremely unnerved.

He hadn't felt this _alone_ in the new world since he'd arrived. Ever since he'd landed in the States with the Friedrich Von Steuben and his company, he'd confided in with him for just about everything, exchanging war stories, laughing at each other's crude jokes they'd picked up along the way, and making snide comments in German about the unfamiliar American customs they encountered. Like everyone else in his circle in the Prussian army back home, he'd heard plenty about Von Steuben and the reasons behind his dismissal from the army, but as far as Gilbert had been concerned, as long it didn't infringe on his own personal life, the Baron could continue pursuing whatever infatuations and relationships he liked. And for the most part it had worked out–the Baron had never made a pass at _him_ , of course.

He rolled over and stared absently at an irregular stain on the ceiling of his cabin, going over what Francis had pointed out, and despite how much he disliked the idea, he had to admit that it did serve to explain a lot of Al's unusual behavior over the past few weeks. The distracted glances, that strange indiscernible expression Alfred would have before snapping out of it and getting back to work. _Shit. So that's what it was all about…_ His view of the ceiling blurred and his head began to throb. Whatever the Baron had been chatting on about, he was right about one thing–the work load was probably taking its toll on him. Gil vaguely remembered brushing off Francis earlier with a statement about his "packed schedule," but he could probably afford to let the aides carry it out for the afternoon. In the meantime he would take his rest the way _he_ wanted to.

Notes:

-The late 18th century was kind of a mess in Europe, with distrust and disagreements galore. To be honest I kind of got really confused trying to research everything, except for the parts Prussia references here. Basically the Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth had lost most of its power by now, there were problems or uprisings happening in Bavaria, and there was something about Austria and Russia *almost* going to war? I'm iffy on the specifics, which is why I left it mostly vague. Also since Prussia is far away from his own homeland he wouldn't be knowing exactly what's going on either, which is why he's anxious here.

This guy! Well Von Steuben literally got kicked out of Prussia for being gay (they kind of didn't give any specific reasons for his dismissal per se, but since he was a brilliant soldier and leader it was extremely odd that they would dismiss him, especially at the same time that he was facing allegations of homosexual conduct. So he went to France, where he ended up eventually meeting Benjamin Franklin, who tried to recruit him to the Revolution, but was like "Uh we can't really pay you cuz we have no money" and so Von Steuben was like "Forget this, I'm going back to Prussia," but then he couldn't go back to Prussia because of aforementioned gay scandals, so he ended up going to the US, since Washington Literally Couldn't Care Any Less about gay scandals, and also he ended up getting a pretty sweet pension after the war.

I hc that he and Prussia were probably pretty good buds, since the Baron was an aide-de-camp to Fredrick the Great himself and probably fought alongside Prussia at some point, and Prussia was pretty bummed that he had to be dismissed. Also despite his distaste for the subject, Prussia does show a bit more deference towards the Baron than he would for, say, France.

This got kind of long, but thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this :)


	5. Matters of the Heart

The next day was a Sunday, so activities had come to a stop. There was a brief outdoor service, after which most of the soldiers went to enjoy their day of rest. America and Prussia, however, were nowhere to be seen. France asked a few soldiers if they'd seen either of them come out, but none had yet. He had a vague idea of where America had gone, and didn't care to chase after him, so he made his way to Prussia's residence at the edge of the encampment.

Prussia's hut was impeccably clean as usual–as clean as one could be in Valley Forge, anyway. Clothes folded, weapons tucked away, floor smoothed and swept of all dust and debris. Prussia was kneeling on the floor in front of his cot in silence, head bowed, not having moved an inch since France had intruded.

France stood there behind him for a few seconds.

"Ahem."

There was no reply.

"Prussia, what are you doing?"

Prussia grunted with annoyance, but didn't turn around. "Well, what does it look like I'm doing?" he snapped. "I am _praying_. You all still do that right, on this continent? Or did you all turn into heathens since I stopped paying attention?"

"You are not half as funny as you think you are," said France, frowning. "Anyways, I talked to America. Have you thought about what I said yesterday?"

"I did indeed." Prussia got up and sat back on his cot. "In fact, I've been thinking a whole lot. Gave me quite the headache yesterday, I might add. That's what I was just doing when you so rudely interrupted me again."

"I thought you said you were praying."

"Same difference! God and I have had an extremely close, if slightly complicated, relationship for ages, and seeing as our little situation could use an outside opinion, I thought it would be a good idea to check in."

"Prussia, it's not like the Bible's going to give you any advice on 'What to do if your much younger charge suddenly starts crushing on you in the middle of warfare,' is it?"

"Well it's certainly been more helpful than you," said Prussia, picking up his well-worn leather tome and making a flourish of flipping through it before setting it down again. "I'll bet your mind could benefit from a couple devotionals, since while you're being awfully reserved right know, I know the sort of things that go on in your head. And before you say it, it is out of the question."

"Is that so?" said France teasingly, leaning in. "What makes you think you know me so well? I don't recall the two of us ever being that _intimate_."

"You know what I mean," Prussia shoved him away. "'Give him a chance, Gil,' Prussia imitated a whining voice. "''Don't you think the kid's cute, how do you know you won't like him?' yeah, fat fucking chance. Just because the Baron thinks it's fun to flirt with the boys at a serious time like this doesn't mean I need to follow suit."

"I was not going to suggest anything like that." said France, who could feel his patience starting to slip ever so slightly. "What's going on with you? And don't go storming away from me like you did yesterday."

"I bet that's what you were thinking at least. Don't deny it."

"Okay, so maybe the possibility fleetingly occurred to my mind." said France. "So what? It crossed yours, but that doesn't mean anything. I'm not making decisions for you, and I'd never convince you into trying anything you're not personally comfortable with, you know that."

"Oh, that's just comforting! You should tell that to the Baron!"

"What does the Baron have anything to do with this?" France crossed his arms defensively. "Anyway, you're going to have to deal with this sooner or later, before it turns into anything unpleasant and unmanageable."

"Unmanageable for _you_ , maybe, but you know me, I can tackle anything, even that brat. Especially that brat."

"I'm not doubting your military prowess, but I know how you are, you can be so blunt with your words! And this isn't like a battle or an argument or something where you can just overpower the other side. He's been through so much already, you don't need to add a broken heart to the record."

Prussia huffed and rolled his eyes "So what do you want me to do? Lead him on when I know I'm not interested and get us both in an even worse situation? Yeah, I'm blunt, but that's because I'm not trying to deceive anyone. That's how we operate on an everyday basis–I don't just talk to just sound pretty, unlike some people. It's just like training. Might be painful and harsh to hear, but it's what's good for him." Prussia grabbed his hat and strode out of the tent, France following him. "Where's the rascal at now?"

"I haven't seen him since last night, but I'll hazard a guess. Probably hiding far away out of shame and embarrassment of his feelings. Give him some time, he'll emerge eventually."

"I can't believe this kid," Prussia kicked at a hard clump of dirt with the tip of his boot. "He has about hundred other things to worry about besides me. I don't need this in my life, I am too fucking busy!"

"You should also be aware that he's been picking up on your language lately, and I don't mean he's studying German," said France. "Make it simple! Tell him you appreciate his feelings, explain why it's a no-go, and carry on with your strictly business relationship just like before. It'll be hard, but trust me. When it comes to matters of the heart, it'll be better for everyone if you just get everything over with quickly."

"'Matters of the heart,' huh?" Prussia muttered, passing the newly formed rows of tents and huts that Von Steuben had mandated since his arrival. "Geez. Don't people have better things to talk about? For centuries I've had to put up with listening to all of you people endlessly discussing who's hooking up with whom. And not just when it comes to political alliances, if you take my meaning. Not even the Baron, no one would shut up about him back at home!'"

"Well, regarding the Baron, even you have to admit it is not as if he is exactly…discreet." said France.

"Fair enough, I guess." said Prussia. "I'm not begrudging him his pleasures." He turned back to look at France. "I'm not trying to blame the kid or anything, you're right, he's young, I get that. But you do understand how deeply uncomfortable this particular situation makes me, right?"

"I think we are all uncomfortable at this point." said France. "But comfortable or not, I seem to remember a certain someone saying 'It might be painful and harsh, but it's what's good for you.'"

"You sly frog." Prussia sighed again, more out of weariness than annoyance this time. "This is one of those times when I'm actually forced to admit that you're right. In this case, that I'm right, since you quoted me this time. Alright then, it's settled. I'll talk to him first thing in the morning, once he comes out of hiding or whatever. We'll get this awkward situation out of the way once and for all, God help and forgive me."

"I don't know about 'once and for all,'" said France. "But it sounds like a good start to me."

—

 **Not much history to talk about for this chapter, but fun facts:**

-This chapter was actually the very first part of this fic that I ever wrote when I was originally developing this whole story idea! Aside from a few edits to make it flow better with the rest of the story, it's basically the same.

-Hm yeah lots of thoughts on Prussia as being lowkey romance repulsed, and how he deals with it. :/ I'm thinking that he prob doesn't mind people around him having relationships in principle (he is in the middle of Europe, after all) although as we can see here he gets pretty freaked out and irritated when he himself gets involved…

-As someone who is both Christian and aro ace, I do realize that the whole "religious sex/romance-repulsed person" is a bit of a stereotype, and I do plan to address that in relation to my characterization of Prussia with a bit more nuance in future chapters. I like the idea of Prussia being a man of many strange contradictions–being a bit vulgar, arrogant and temperamental, but also an pretty honest, disciplined and well-meaning person. Also I still think he'd have a pretty active spiritual/religious life as well, albeit probably a lot more private and personal and less militant than in his Teutonic Knights days. Altho im still unsure as to where he'd fall on the catholic/protestant divide at this time, like I said last chapter, Europe is kind of a mess.

-This was a short chapter, but once again thank you for reading!


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